Better Than Revenge
by Authoress-in-training
Summary: "I know that a certain… mutual friend isn't dead, like the whole world thinks he is." A self-satisfied smile slides slowly across her face as the taunting one drops off the redhead's, her mouth forming an O shape of shock to match her eyes. "And I know what you've been doing in the woods near Lake Roccaluce."


_She came along, got him alone and let's hear the applause_

_She took him faster than you could say sabotage_

_I never saw it coming, wouldn't have suspected it_

_I underestimated just who I was dealing with_

_She had to know the pain was beating on me like a drum_

_She underestimated just who she was stealing from_

* * *

"Turn it off," Diaspro snaps, turning away from the TV mounted in the corner in disgust. "I mean it! Off! Now!"

The guard assigned to her cell just chuckles. "That might work on your servants back home, Princess, but you're not in a palace anymore. If you want something, you have to say the magic word."

"Asshole." He snorts a laugh.

"No, I don't think that's it. Come on, you're going to be released soon; a little good manners wouldn't go amiss." She stares daggers at him until he gives up and turns away. "Alright, then I guess the TV's staying on." Squinting at the screen, he adds, "What, you don't want to watch the Prince of Eraklyon's engagement announcement?" It would seem like an innocent enough question, but the sly smile playing across the corners of his lips tells Diaspro that he knows exactly why she's reacting like this.

Even though she knows she's doing exactly what he wants, the former crown princess of Isis all but growls, unable to hold it in any longer. "_I_ should be the one holding Sky's hand and smiling on TV, not that stupid little red-haired twit."

"No, instead you're stuck in here. Because you made a deal with the devil and got burned." The guard's eyes flash with anger, and he brings his face close to the bars. "Did you really think you were going to get away with it, _Princess_?" he asks in a low voice. "Were you really so entitled as to think that no one would ever discover what you did? That you could have your happily ever after at the expense of so many innocent people?"

"Go to hell," she says, the amount of venom in her voice startling even her. She's had to deal with this before – the guards mouthing off to her – but never to this intense degree.

"Ladies first."

A familiar fluttering anger surges to life in her chest, but no tingling sensation follows, and Diaspro heaves a sigh when she remembers that her powers have been bound. Because she's a prisoner – locked up on charges of aiding and abetting Baltor in his mission to enslave the magical dimension.

She made one mistake – one little, well-intentioned bad judgment call – and it's going to define her for the rest of her life. She's become the joke of the magical dimension, her royalty status has basically been revoked… and all just because she wanted back the one thing that was supposed to always belong to her.

Growing up, Diaspro had been told that as a princess, her only duty was to marry well. Isis was a smaller planet, and not as politically prominent, so it would be her job to secure an alliance through her marriage that would benefit her people. Her days were filled with lessons: singing, dancing, painting, calligraphy, flower-arranging, languages, etiquette, diplomacy… everything to make her a more desirable wife and queen. Her entire life was built around the assumption that she would some day be someone's wife, and the ruler of a realm; no one ever bothered to ask her if that was what she wanted for herself – it hadn't been, at first – so after a while, Diaspro eventually started to believe that it was.

When she was sixteen years old, she was sent to the Eraklyon Royal Court, and became betrothed to the king's fifteen-year-old son, Prince Sky of Eraklyon. Marriage had been a distant concept all her life, but when she first met the young prince, something fluttered to life inside her chest. He was handsome, charming, and kind – far better than she had thought to expect from the arranged marriage that she knew would be her destiny. They'd only had a brief time to get to know each other before he left to attend the Red Fountain Academy for Heroes in Magix, but by the time he did, Diaspro was quite certain that she could be very happy spending the rest of her life as his wife and queen.

She'd stayed at court when Sky went to school, immersing herself in the luxuries of being royalty and learning how to navigate the shark-infested waters of inter-realm politics. Sky came home infrequently, and their time together was always short, but it didn't matter to the young princess – every day she found herself falling more and more in love with him.

And then he had to go and find himself another girlfriend – that whiny little redheaded bitch, Bloom.

She could never hate Sky, her sweet love, so instead all of Diaspro's red-hot anger was directed at _her_. That stupid little Earth girl, with her cute little smile and adorable big eyes, like a lost puppy with her tragic backstory; Diaspro wanted to kick her in the face. When they'd fought at the Red Fountain exhibition, it was embarrassing how easily the other girl had kicked her butt; despite always wanting to learn how to be a fairy, her magic lessons had been far and few between, her parents considering it more important for her to learn how to dance the quadrille and know the meanings of different colored roses.

Even after that debacle, and Sky's subsequent breaking of their engagement, Diaspro was still welcomed at Eraklyon's court, and decided to stay rather than face the embarrassment of going home to a family that only considered her a vessel for alliance. She took an apartment in the fashionable part of the royal city and built a life for herself, satisfied with the knowledge that at least her presence in royal politics would do good for the people of Isis. Men from all over the dimension tried to court her, but she spurned them all, earning her the nickname of "Ice Queen".

Diaspro had only one real goal: to win back her prince. So when she'd been handed the opportunity to do just that, she'd jumped, not thinking about the possible consequences of whose help she was accepting.

And now she's rotting away down here, her future irreparably ruined.

She glares up at at the TV, stares at Bloom and Sky's smiling faces until they start to blur, then throws herself down onto the bed – at least her royal status had been enough to land her somewhere that wasn't a complete hovel – and tries to think positive thoughts. At least she'll be out soon, as that rude guard had said. And she's only twenty; far from too old to start over. She's already rebuilt her life once before, she can do it again. She could run away and settle down somewhere quiet, away from all the craziness of royal politics, somewhere no one has ever heard of her. Take up a trade, live a simple life. Maybe find a nice man to love her the way Sky never could.

At the sound of her own thoughts, Diaspro rolls over, wanting to throw up. That kind of life would never satisfy her, and she knows it. She needs luxury, comfort, people to attend to her every whim. And she actually sort of likes politics – has a knack for negotiating treaties and mediating arguments, batting her eyelashes and getting the stodgy old kings to agree to whatever she wants. Most importantly, though, she knows she could never feel anything in her heart for anyone but Sky.

Diaspro is nothing if not resilient. She's already had to learn to make a life for herself, to take what she wants rather than wait for anyone to give it to her. She could do it again: worm her way back into Eraklyon's court – they'd pardoned much worse offenders than her – and the lap of luxury she knows she so richly deserves. And she will, she absolutely will.

But all that comes second to this new piece of news: Sky's engagement to that little redheaded twit. Something absolutely must be done about that. That is just unnacceptable. Sky is, and forever will be, hers.

Diaspro fights for what she wants. And especially now that she has nothing to lose – since she's lost it all already – she can fight dirty.

Bloom had better watch her back.

* * *

_She's not a saint and she's not what you think_

_Soon she's gonna find_

_Stealing other people's toys on the playground_

_Won't make him any friends_

_She should keep in mind, she should keep in mind_

_There is nothing I do better than revenge_

* * *

When Diaspro thought she was prepared to fight dirty, she didn't think she'd be meaning it _literally_. Yet here she is, crouching behind a bush, with twigs in her hair and mud on her skirt (and she really can't afford to get her clothes dry-cleaned anymore).

Her back is starting to ache from being bent over for hours, but she's not going to give up. Bloom will have to leave eventually; there's no way she's going to stay inside her little school for an entire day. And where she goes, Diaspro will follow.

Diaspro doesn't really have a plan, but one thing she learned from all the years of political maneuvering is that it's always best to know your opponents. Even a seemingly insignificant tidbit of information can end up being your trump card to achieve your own ends. So she'll watch the not-really-a-princess redhead, gather whatever intel she can, and then she can figure out what to do with it. (She does vow, though, that if the little twit goes to meet Sky, she will leave. She's not a masochist, after all.)

Mostly, though, Diaspro is here in the bushes outside Alfea because it's better than sitting alone in her crappy hotel room drinking cheap liquor (oh, how she misses the taste of good champagne), crying and feeling sorry for herself. She's not used to having this much time to herself – at court, there were always people hovering, even when she wanted a moment of privacy – and she's rapidly discovering she doesn't like it. In the stifling silence of solitude, it's too easy for her mind to fill in the void with the harsh voices of everyone who's ever scorned her and thrown her aside like she was so much trash. No, Diaspro is through wallowing; she did plenty of that when she was locked up. Now it's time to take action.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a flash of a very familiar eye-poppingly bright red. Immediately, her attention focuses in with laser precision as the object of her intense hatred walks through the gates – alone. _All the better._ The Magix shuttle bus pulls up to the front of the school, but the redhead doesn't get on it, instead turning in the direction of the forest.

Waiting just long enough so she won't be discovered, Diaspro follows her trail, trying not to get her hopes up. This could be for a school assignment, or maybe the little twit just wanted to take a walk and 'commune with nature' or something else stupid. But it's getting harder and harder to think like that, especially as they go further into the trees and the younger girl's stride never slows, like she's headed somewhere with purpose, somewhere specific. The middle of the woods is a perfect place for a secret meeting… and that sounds like exactly the kind of thing Diaspro needs to make Sky see why marrying this girl would be a terrible, terrible idea.

Finally, they reach an opening in the trees, revealing the edge of Lake Roccaluce. There's a figure standing by the water, too far away for Diaspro to make out details. Holding her breath, she creeps closer, trying to find cover in the foliage as her eyes narrow on the other person. Whoever he is (because at this distance, it is unmistakably a guy), Bloom seems very excited to see him; Diaspro literally starts to salivate, her fingers twitching.

Mystery man picks up the redhead and twirls her around in his arms, then carefully lowers her to the ground. His fingers tenderly brush a piece of hair out of her face, then slide down to cup her cheek. They kiss long and slow, and when they finally come up for air he folds her into his arms, her eyes fluttering closed as she rests her head against his chest. His eyes, however, look away, and when Diaspro gets a look at them, a searing lightning-bolt of shock and recognition shoots through her body, knocking her backwards and down onto the ground (good thing, too, because she's not entirely sure he didn't see her).

_No fucking way._

Diaspro had never known the meaning of the phrase 'too good to be true' – how could anything good ever feel wrong? – but now she does. Acutely and deliciously.

This is better than anything she ever dared hope she might discover about the little bitch. If Diaspro can make this public knowledge, it won't just force Sky to call off the engagement – it could ruin Bloom the way Diaspro's life has been ruined.

After waiting to make sure it's safe to look up again, Diaspro reaches for the cheap disposable magi-camera she has stashed in her pocket. The unholy pair are still locked in each other's arms, too distracted by each other to hear the soft, subtle _click_ of the camera lens as it seals their fate.

_If I were you, Bloom,_ Diaspro thinks to herself, _I'd enjoy that happiness while I still can._

* * *

_I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey_

_You might have him but haven't you heard?_

_I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey_

_You might have him but I always get the last word_

* * *

"Hello, Bloom."

The redhead jumps at the sound of her name; surprise turns to disgust on her face as she sees who's addressed her. "Diaspro," she says calmly, the superiority she so clearly feels she has over the blond evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just came to congratulate you," Diaspro says airily, peeling herself off the side of the wall and walking confidently towards the other girl. She's relieved to see the superior look melt off of Bloom's face, replaced by the edges of concern; at least she can still inspire fear in _someone_. "Somehow, you managed to keep your hooks in Sky for, what, almost three years now? I'm surprised he hasn't gotten bored of you yet; you must know what his attention span is like." Diaspro tilts her head to the side slightly, projecting an air of innocence; of all her seemingly pointless lessons, the ones on reading and manipulating body language were by far the most useful. And she relishes any opportunity to remind this little upstart that she had a history with Sky long before the redhead even discovered she was a fairy.

But the younger girl doesn't wither, instead coming back with some of that ever-annoying spunk. "You don't find it at all ironic to be talking to me about Sky's attention span, given that _I'm_ the one who has him and he dropped you like a hot potato?"

Diaspro's eyes narrow. Enough of this stupid little back-and-forth. It's time to play her trump card. She didn't really need to come here today, but she couldn't resist the chance to taunt her rival with her impending doom. She's gotten to have so little fun lately, after all. "You're playing a dangerous game, little girl."

Bloom rolls her eyes. "What are you talking about, Diaspro? You've got about ten seconds to explain why you're really here before I get someone to forcibly remove you from campus."

Diaspro smirks, seeing through the threat for what it really is: Bloom's scared. _Already? Wonderful. _"Oh, I'm not sure you want me to say it," she says lightly, keeping her eyes locked on the other girl's the entire time. "The things I know… well, it would be very, very bad for you if they were to become public knowledge."

"Like what?" Bloom crosses her arms over her chest and stares right back, as if daring the former princess to shock her. And Diaspro mustn't disappoint her, now can she?

"I know that a certain… mutual friend isn't dead, like the whole world thinks he is." A self-satisfied smile slides slowly across her face as the taunting one drops off the redhead's, her mouth forming an O shape of shock to match her eyes. "And I know what you've been doing in the woods near Lake Roccaluce."

Bloom quickly forms her face back into a mask of composure, but it's too late; she's already let the blond see far too much, and they both know it. In her hands, Diaspro holds the key to getting everything she's ever wanted – and she'll be damned if she lets anything talk her out of using it. Still, it will be fun to watch the girl squirm. "But maybe I'm wrong," she continues lightly, casually leaning back against a bookshelf. "Maybe Sky would be into a threesome. I can call him and find out." She reaches towards her pocket, knowing that Bloom will assume she's going for a phone when all she's got in there is some gum and her motel key.

"Stop." The word comes out strangled, like it's physically hurting Bloom to say it._ Perfect_. Diaspro soaks in the sound, savors every ounce of pain she's causing the girl who ruined her life. "Diaspro, why are you doing this?" There's an uncharacteristic softness in her voice, an almost pleading quality about her words; real fear in those big blue eyes, hidden behind her contempt for the princess of Isis.

She really does love Sky… and yet she's still sneaking around behind his back with the man who destroyed her planet.

It occurs to Diaspro a moment later: she thinks she can have both.

She's disgusting.

Everyone thinks Diaspro is the horrible person, but none of them can see the truth: that the girl in front of her is so much worse than she ever was. She might have been (still is) vain, self-centered, devious, and manipulative, but all those traits could just as easily be attributed to almost anyone with a crown or a title to their name. What Bloom has done is a far greater offense: let her power and fame go to her head, believed her own hype, that nothing can ever come between her and what she wants.

And Diaspro is all too willing to show her just how very wrong she was to ever think that she was invincinble.

"Really, you've got no one to blame but yourself for this little mess. All I did was take pictures. I never forced you to sleep with a terrorist." Bloom's jaw tightens, and Diaspro leans in close, making her voice almost a whisper as she adds, "You took everything from me. I'm just repaying the favor."

A very different girl looks up at Diaspro. Her eyes are guarded, jaw set, stance defensive. "Why should anyone believe a word you say? You're nothing but a disgraced ex-royal with a prison record. You lost any credibility you might've had the day you took that love potion from Baltor." She flinches slightly when she says his name, the merest blink of the eyes, but Diaspro's watching intently enough to catch it. The miniscule flicker of remorse she'd been feeling a moment ago disappears just as quickly as it had been brought to life.

"And you don't think they'll turn on you just as quickly when they find out just how involved _you've_ been with him?" Bloom pales, and Diaspro can just imagine the metaphorical knife twisted deeper into the stupid girl's stomach. She catches sight of herself in the mirror across the room: her skin is glowing in a way that the best oxygen facial could never reproduce, and the look in her eyes is content for the first time in weeks. Revenge looks good on her, she decides. "See, that's the thing. People are starving for a good scandal. And thanks to _you_, I have absolutely nothing to lose anymore."

Her goal for the afternoon accomplished, Diaspro heads for the door, satisfied with her work. "Please." She stops short in the doorway, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her lips at Bloom's genuinely humble, begging tone. That sound is sweeter than the most decadent dessert in the magical dimension. She knew this was what she wanted. "You don't have to do this, Diaspro. You can be better than this."

Diaspro's eyes narrow, and she turns around, ready to snarl another biting response. What comes out instead is very different, and unexpectedly, she feels her throat tighten a bit. "You can't have the life you stole from me. You just can't."

* * *

_Do you still feel like you know what you're doing?_

_Because I don't think you do_

* * *

The bright colors of ball gowns and dazzling sparkles of jewels, the low murmurs of polite conversation, the subtle clink of champagne flutes, the soft glowing lights designed to make everyone look their best… it all envelopes Diaspro like a soothing hug, as if to say 'Welcome back, darling; oh how we've missed you.' And Diaspro has missed this, more than she could have possibly imagined. This is where she belongs.

She hadn't realized how physically painful it would be, coming tonight: to get a little taste of what she'd been missing, only to have it all snatched away again.

_Very soon, everything will be back to the way it should be, and I can go to all the parties I want_, she reminds herself. And she'd had no choice about the location; it's not like she can just go to Eraklyon's court and demand a meeting with Prince Sky anymore. The amount of favors she had to call in to get her hands on an invitation to this party and a suitable dress is mind-boggling, especially because she knows her window of opportunity is extremely limited. Someone is bound to recognize her and cause an incident if she stays too long. But Diaspro longs to linger in the refreshment rooms, sipping wine and flirting flippantly; to gossip in the bathroom with the other well-born ladies about whoever happened to currently be out of favor; to be swept onto the dance floor, whirling from partner to partner because everyone wants to dance with the girl who in this world of glitter and glamour and privilege was always the brightest sparkle of them all.

_I will be back_, she vows. _And I'll have it all again. But for now, I have work to do._

She spots him almost immediately; he stands out like a sore thumb, with his floppy hair not gelled back and his mannerisms positively screaming of discomfort. Obviously, someone didn't want to be here – and yet here he is, with Bloom nowhere in sight, just as she'd thought. (She still could have done it if the pesky redhead had been in attendance, but this just makes her job so much easier.)

She glides up to his side just as his parents melt away into the crowd, timing her arrival perfectly. "Diaspro?" His mouth drops – of course he recognizes her instantly, despite how she'd straightened her hair and foregone her usual red for tonight – and his eyes flick nervously from side to side, as if trying to locate the nearest guards. Her stomach drops; that cannot be allowed to happen. "What are you–"

"Shhh." She presses one delicate finger to his lips, making her voice light, her eyes teasing. His expression softens slightly despite himself, because Diaspro is a master of manipulating men, and Sky was always a particularly easy target. "Now, I know you wouldn't be thinking of trying to get me thrown out." It's second nature for her to let the barest touch of magic spill into her voice, but she pulls it back when she remembers who she's talking to. Compelling Sky is one line she will never cross. "Is that any way to treat an old friend like me?" she purrs, sweetening her tone to the knife's edge of saccharine instead.

Sky gives a short, bitter laugh. "We were never friends, Diaspro."

"That's right; we were so much more." Taking another step towards him, she curls her fingers around his arm, leaning in so he can smell her perfume. "Come now, Sky. Why so hostile? Don't you remember those days?" Her tone grows wistful as she tightens her grip on his arm. "The long walks in the garden, ballroom dancing at your parents' parties, that kiss under the stars… We were teenagers fumbling around in the dark, trying to figure out how to live and how to love. And you loved me once, I know you did. Whatever happened to that?"

For a moment, she can see the slightly dazed look in his eyes, knows that her words have sent him back in time to the days she'd give anything to have back. But then, suddenly, he blinks and it's gone, his eyes hardening. "You showed your true colors," he says coldly, pulling away from her. "The fact that I'm here having an actual conversation with you now after what you did to me is really remarkable."

"Oh, poor bleeding heart. Like it's such a crime to love?" Diaspro bites her bottom lip, realizing that she's letting her anger spill out, and that's not at all the intended goal tonight. Softening her voice, she continues, "I only want the best for you, Sky. And I can tell you one thing – the best is _certainly_ not your precious little fiancee."

Anger flashes bright and sharp in Sky's eyes at her mention of Bloom. "You don't get to talk about Bloom. She is a million times better than you could ever dream of being–"

"Is she?" Diaspro raises one eyebrow in a pointed stare, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling when she sees his expression falter slightly. "It's really sad, that she's managed to fool you for so long into thinking she's this perfect little angel. Maybe she was at one point, but that is definitely not who she is now."

"What are you saying, Diaspro?" He's wary, but there's a healthy dose of genuine doubt in his tone; she's gotten through to him more quickly than she would've thought.

"I'm _saying_ that your intended is an adulteress before she even becomes a wife."

Sky recoils like she'd slapped him. "Bloom would never–"

"Oh, but she would. And you'll never guess who the other man is." Diaspro reaches into her purse and pulls out the envelope with the photos, discreetly pressing it into his hands. "I'm sorry that I have to do this, but you deserve the truth. But in the end, it's your choice, Sky. You never have to look at these if you don't want. You can burn them and forget that you even saw me tonight, forget what I said. But you should know that everything I've ever done is because I thought it was in your best interests. And that hasn't changed." He seems to be momentarily stunned, so she takes advantage and reaches up to press a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. "I still love you, Sky. I will always love you. And I will always be there for you."

He's still silent as she turns and walks away.

She knows he'll open it, even if he might be too shocked to do anything now. Maybe not at first – he'll strive to believe that his fiancee is the perfect, innocent girl he fell for years ago – but eventually, he'll think of what she said, break down and look at the pictures. He'll choose to listen to her, because there was a time, when she was sixteen years old, that he thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he would have done anything to please her. That might have been a long time ago, but if tonight was any indication, he does still remember those days.

Which means that she might be able to get them back, assuming she's just played her cards correctly.

"Champagne, miss?" A passing waiter comes into her peripheral view, proferring a tray of delicate champagne flutes. And even though her work is done and she really should be making her exit as soon as she possibly can, Diaspro can't resist the lure of the bubbly.

_Just one glass. I am celebrating, after all._

Smiling, she replies, "Please." She curls her fingers around the stem and lifts it to her lips, feeling a heady rush of delight as the sparkling liquid slides down her throat.

_All's_ _fair in love and war,_ Diaspro thinks to herself, her heels clicking like gunshots on the marble floor_. And this is both._

* * *

_Let's hear the applause_

_Come on, show me how much better you are_

_See you deserve some applause_

_Because you're so much better_

_She took him faster than you could say sabotage_

* * *

**Author's Note: Yay, I managed to get this up before second semester starts! I am just on a roll lately. :D**

**So okay, I don't really know where this came from, besides the fact that I have an unhealthy obsession with Taylor Swift. Really. And I'm starting to think that she might have some kind of weird powers over my creativity, because I finished both the last chapter of Meet Again _and_ my Christmas fic while becoming addicted to her new album Red. ****Truth be told, though, I've had an idea of doing something like this for a while, ever since I wrote "Unfaithful" about a year ago, which was a Sky-centric piece involving Sparxshipping. Then I heard Better Than Revenge for the first time, and well... it sort of spiraled from there.**

**I had a lot of fun delving into Diaspro's mind - I definitely went way more in-depth on her than I did with Sky in "Unfaithful" - because I feel like as a Sparxshipping author, I always seem to throw her back together with Sky, but never really tried to figure out why that pairing would work after everything she's done. (This was sort of an answer to that as much as it was a testament to my love for Taylor Swift.) I really don't see her as being the almighty bitch; just someone who lost the person she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with to someone else. Wouldn't that make any of us a little crazy? I know it's a little more complicated than that, but...**

**Cartoons like Winx Club are fun for us adults because we can take these scenarios that are supposed to be made clear-cut black and white for little kids, and then examine all the nuances and imagine reasonings for everything to make it so much more interesting and complex. That's what's kept me writing all these years, at least (and watching, even though the show itself is rapidly going downhill... please tell me y'all agree).**

**Okay, it's late and I'm rambling, so I'll say goodnight. Please, don't forget to drop me a line on the way out. (Pretty please? With a shirtless Ian Somerhalder on top?)**

**Love and kisses,**

**- Authoress**


End file.
